


A Different Fork

by victorine



Series: Hannibal: The Alpha/Omega Remixes [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, AU, Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Claiming Bites, Episode: s01e01 Apéritif, First Kiss, M/M, Omega Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/pseuds/victorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...the tall, poised, exquisitely turned-out man in front of him was, biologically speaking, a bullseye. A touchdown. Will Graham's golden ticket."</p><p>Alpha/Omega AU of Will and Hannibal's first meeting in Aperitif.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Fork

**Author's Note:**

> What might have happened if Will and Hannibal had been hot for each other from the get-go. This is, arguably, pretty OOC for both characters but it turns out if you try to write an a/b/o version of Aperitif completely in character, what you get is Aperitif with very slightly more scenting. I figured this was more fun to read...
> 
> This fic does not relate to any others in the series.

_Please let this be a hallucination._

Will closed his eyes and hoped. This had never worked for him before but short of impaling himself on Jack’s coat rack, he had few other options.

In theory, Will knew all about the Omega imprinting impulse and had always thought it was a damn silly trait. The idea that from one scrap of physical contact, an Omega could identify their ideal mate seemed more like something out of a fairytale than a biology class, despite having heard the tales from Omegas who had experienced it.

One scrap of physical contact like, say, a handshake.

Like the one Will had just exchanged, at Jack’s behest, with Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The one which had caused his body to light up like a Christmas tree, or one of his dogs catching the scent of a rabbit. The one that had told him, in no uncertain terms, that the tall, poised, exquisitely turned-out man in front of him was, biologically speaking, a bullseye. A touchdown. Will Graham's golden ticket.

Maybe Jack had a particularly sharp letter opener on his desk.

The advantage, of course, of the imprinting process, was that no one else was aware of it. The Omega could keep quiet and go about their business, leaving the Alpha in question none the wiser, at least until they could ascertain compatibility in other areas.

Unfortunately, during their brief conversation, Doctor Lecter had quickly proved himself interesting in more ways than just his pheromones. He had matched Will’s mind thought for thought, easily falling into good-humoured (on Lecter’s side, anyway) conversational sparring. In other circumstances, Will would have been pleasantly surprised to be engaged in such a way. In Jack’s office, with Jack’s scrutinising gaze upon them, Will could only be suspicious.

“Whose profile are you working on?” Without allowing the doctor space to answer, Will turned to Jack and iterated, “Whose profile is he working on?” They were going to get precisely thirty seconds to give what would undoubtedly be an unsatisfactory explanation, then Will was getting the hell out of there.

Hannibal slid smoothly into the proffered space, to answer, “I'm sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can't shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.”

Will reflected that there was little more annoying than someone who really understood you, except possibly someone who could intrigue you when intrigue was the last thing you wanted.

“Still,” Lecter continued, with a minute expression that Will easily read as apologetic, “it was completely inappropriate for me to indulge in this situation, despite the compelling nature of our exchange. In fact, I am not here to profile anybody. I take it you have not informed Mr Graham of the reason for our meeting?” This last was directed to Jack, with the barest hint of reproach.

“Informed me of what?” Will asked, trying not to notice how easily he and Lecter formed a unit against the bigger man.

Jack sighed and tried to look apologetic but something in the way he looked from Will to Hannibal and back again spoke of satisfaction and Will suddenly knew what he was going to say.

“No,” he gritted out firmly.

“Will, just hear me out. Studies have shown,”

“Studies have shown what, Jack? Getting fucked on the regular by a nice, strong Alpha is the best way to keep unstable Omegas under control? Is the FBI in the business of arranged marriages as well as capturing psychos, now? Maybe you could combine the two, identify potential threats to society and neutralise them via match.com!”

“Will, that is not,” Jack attempted to explain.

Will, all too aware that Dr Lecter was watching him with rapt fascination, cut him off. “Can it, Jack. I have better things to do than listen to this farce and so should both of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I've got a class to teach.” Will headed for the door but found himself blocked by the doctor, who had moved with a surprising turn of speed. Will tried very hard not to add that to the list of Hannibal Lecter’s attractive qualities.

Lecter held up a hand in apology and asked, “Please, permit me a moment more, Mr Graham, if only to say that I had no intention of coming here today to claim a mate. Such an idea would be both outdated and preposterous.”

Will wanted very much to barge past him and away from this entire debacle. Except, this close, the doctor’s scent was – _dammit_ – comforting and the calm it lent him gave Will just enough perspective to see that the older man had also been manipulated by Jack. He could see the affront buried beneath the calm exterior and decided he would at least let the man explain his side. It might even be worth it to see Crawford told off by the man who conjured images of bone arenas in casual conversation and who read Will as easily as Will read killers.

“Fine,” he said, levelly, his eyes meeting the perfect knot of the doctor’s tie straight on, “under what pretence did Jack bring you here?” He heard a huff of displeasure from behind him but kept his back to Jack, happy to close him out of the exchange.

“Jack came to me on a recommendation from a former student of mine, Alana Bloom. I believe you know her?”

Will failed to hide a grimace. If he had anything approaching a social skill, he'd have liked to know Alana far better than as the friendly, concerned acquaintance she was.

“Jack was, I believe, acting out of genuine concern for your well-being and came to me with the suggestion that we might begin having sessions.”

“Psychoanalysis?” Will spat. “Bad idea, doctor, you won't like me when I'm psychoanalysed.”

At this, Lecter made a small sound of amusement and he rested an arm on Will's shoulder. “In fact, I doubt that very much, Will. May I call you Will?”

Distracted by how much he wanted to lean into the doctor's touch and by how rare – as in, completely non-existent – that urge was, Will found himself nodding.

“Thank you. Please call me Hannibal, if you would prefer. However, again, you misunderstand my intentions. What Jack and I agreed might work to your advantage is if we had… conversations, regularly, off the books and with no connection to the FBI. In effect, I would have been an Alpha in your life without, of course, being _the_ Alpha in your life.”

Will still felt this was an unacceptable intrusion. Except, the conversation he'd just had with Dr Lecter was by far the easiest, most stimulating one of his life, despite the tension flowing in the room. It was all too easy to imagine more conversations like that, like friends might have. And, though Will had worked hard to convince himself otherwise, a friend might be something he would like to have. He could ignore his biology and simply appreciate the company of someone who actually seemed to see him for who he was.

It was horribly enticing.

And then Lecter upped the stakes.

“Having said all that, Will, I find myself minded to alter my proposal, somewhat, if you are amenable.”

Will raised his eyes, this time all the way to the doctor’s jawline and asked, warily, “Oh?”

From behind him, Jack, who Will had completely forgotten about, echoed, “Oh?” with rather more aggression.

Hannibal turned his gaze from Will and towards his boss. “I apologise for going off-script, Jack, but circumstance, and perhaps fate, have brought us to rather a different place. It has become increasingly clear to me, as this meeting has progressed, that Will and I are in fact highly compatible as mates, both biologically and psychologically.”

_What?_

“What?” Jack roared, incensed.

Now Will forced himself to look Hannibal in the face, noting his utter calm despite Jack’s outburst. He found himself pleased anew by warm brown eyes and impossibly high cheekbones.

“Indeed,” Hannibal continued and took his opportunity to gain eye contact with Will, who squirmed but didn't look away, “and judging by his reaction to me, I believe Will is aware of it, too.”

It should have been uncomfortable, being seen so clearly. Instead, Will had to try hard not to bask in it and merely nodded.

“In that case, I propose that we agree to having such conversations alongside a more traditional process of courtship.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “I'm pretty far from traditional,” he said and then realised that his words indicated acquiescence.

“As am I.” The doctor's eyes practically twinkled. “Which is why a conventional process might be a good thing for both of us. Boundaries are often a good thing.”

“Ok, stop!” Jack bellowed. “Doctor Lecter, this is completely outrageous! Will, I'm sorry to have put you through this farce, I will have this man ejected from the building and you will never see him again.”

Hannibal stepped past Will at this, stalking towards Jack in an unexpectedly predatory manner. “You are not Will’s father, Agent Crawford. Your involvement in this manner ended the moment we changed the terms of the proposal.”

The two men began arguing Will's future as though he wasn't in the room. Happy to be invisible for a moment, Will dealt with the problem in his own way, letting the pendulum swing on two possible outcomes.

In one, a life spent doing good under Jack Crawford's thumb. Endlessly marched through inventive crime scenes and the too-compelling riptide of killers’ dreams. The safe embrace of his home and his dogs and the easy pain of loneliness.

In the other, a man who could match, challenge and understand him. He could still do his job, but with support to wrap around himself and something more than Jack as an anchor. Perhaps it wouldn't work. Hannibal might turn out to be cruel, or distant; Will might prove too easily pulled in by darkness, or unable to share himself or his life. Hannibal might hate dogs.

Still, a warm uncertainty seemed more promising than a cold inevitability.

Will came back to Jack pounding his desk, looking like he'd rather be punching Hannibal and yelling, “What, were you just going to put your mark on him right here and now? You cannot just walk into my office and claim Will without his say-so!”

Will placed himself in front of Hannibal, told Jack “You're right, he can't,” and promptly turned to bend his mouth to the doctor's neck and bite down. It would only be a claiming mark, an indication of intent, rather than a biological bonding. If nothing was done, it would fade quickly with no lasting effects. Still, it was risky and the fact that Hannibal didn't make a sound in response was worrying.

Jack's tone was utterly scandalised as he said, “ _Will!_ That was completely…”

“Unorthodox,” Hannibal finished, in a voice that, to Will’s relief, was full of breathless admiration. “A trait I value highly in all things.”

Will, surprised at his own boldness and the affection in Hannibal's gaze, ducked his head and stuttered, “I… I'm sorry, that was impulsive. I…”

That was as far as he got, though, before Hannibal tipped Will’s head to the side and laid a claiming mark of his own.

Will suspected the crash he heard was the sound of Jack hitting his own wall, rather than the sound of his heart bursting but he'd never been one for over-romanticising. Though, as Hannibal raised his head and Will found himself unexpectedly aroused by the sight of his own blood in another man's mouth, he wondered how well he really knew his own romantic inclinations. Then Hannibal smiled, the first full, genuine expression he had made, and Will realised he would soon have the opportunity to find out.

“Ok,” Jack announced, clearly working hard to keep his voice level, “you two take this… whatever this is, out of my office. I'm done looking at it.”

“Gladly,” Will retorted and allowed Hannibal to steer him from the room, a hand on the small of his back.

Outside and a little way away from Jack's office, the two men found an empty room, cleaned themselves up, and regarded each other.

“That was… unexpected,” Will offered.

“Quite,” Hannibal responded. “I genuinely had no intention of gaining a mate today, Will. I will gladly release you if…”

“If that was posturing for Jack Crawford's sake.” Will walked towards Hannibal and then crowded him against a wall, murmuring, “Hang on to that thought, I just want to check something.” And then he pressed up against the doctor, placed a hand against his cheek and moved into a kiss. Soft and questioning, the kiss gave Will his answer within moments as Hannibal pulled him tighter and they moved in harmony, moaning softly with satisfaction. They parted only when breathing became an issue and Will knew that passing up the opportunity to do that over and over again would have been the biggest mistake he could have made.

“I certainly hope _that_ was not for Jack’s sake,” Hannibal quipped and Will laughed with him at the thought.

“I'm reasonably certain that if I lived the rest of my life without ever doing anything else for Jack Crawford, I'd be a happier man,” Will postulated.

“Hmm, then we may have to see what can be done about that.”

“Please tell me you're not the kind of Alpha who tries to run their Omega’s life for them.”

“I suspect such an Alpha would not have responded so favourably to your move to claim them. This morning I was happy to spend the rest of my life unmated. When I saw you, I saw a man who is my equal, who could be a partner, not a chattel or a slave. That is what I want.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I imprinted on an idiot.”

Hannibal's eyes lit up. “Then,”

“Yes, _Alpha_ , from the minute I saw you. Though the fact that you provided the only conversation I've enjoyed with a stranger in thirty-odd years was more of a deciding factor, if I'm honest.”

“That was you _enjoying_ a conversation?”

Will shrugged. “I don't play the way most people do.”

Hannibal grinned. “I believe we have chosen very well, Will. Now, if you would permit me, I would like to take you to lunch.”

Will glanced from his scruff to Hannibal's flawless outfit. “I don't think I'll fit the dress code at your usual haunts, doctor.”

“I do believe I could change most restaurants’ minds about that. However, I in fact intended to show you back to my home. Cooking is one of my greatest pleasures and I would very much like to share it with you.”

“Wait, I've snagged myself a successful doctor who’s a chef in his spare time and you've got a scruffy, unstable guy who spends his days thinking about killing for a living. Hannibal, are you sure you don't want to back out?”

As if to emphasise his disapproval of this idea, Hannibal leaned in to suck gently at the claiming mark he'd left on Will. Then he pressed a slightly bloody kiss to Will's mouth and smiled. “Oh, my Will. I am so very much looking forward to knowing you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments make my life worth living, so please leave one!


End file.
